IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


■i'  Ui   12.2 

2f  114  *■ 

■twu 


Fhotogiafdiic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


13  ^mn  MAIN  STRNT 

WMITn,N.Y.  MSM 

(7t«)l73-4S03 


-*. 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historicai  iSAicroreproductions  /  institut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquas 


\ 


\ 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  ci 
to  tha 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


0 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


D 


D 


D 

D 
D 

D 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelliculAe 


□    Cover  title  missing/ 
Le 


titre  de  couverture  manque 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 


□    Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


D 


Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relii  avec  d'autros  documents 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirioure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutAas 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissont  dans  la  texto, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  Ati  fiimies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentairas  supplAmantairas; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique.  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mAthode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqufo  ci-dessous. 

□   Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□    Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

□    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restauries  et/ou  peilicul^es 

r~n    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 


The  ir 
possii 
of  th« 
filmin 


Origin 
begini 
the  la 
sion.  I 
other 
first  p 
•ion,  I 
or  illu 


D 


Pages  dicoior^es,  tachetdes  ou  piqu^es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tachies 

Showthrough> 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  inigale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  mat6riel  supplimentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  disponibie 


r~p  Pages  detached/ 

I      I    Showthrough/ 

r~~|    Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I     I   Includes  supplementary  material/ 

|~n    Only  edition  available/ 


The  la 
shall  I 
TINUI 
which 

Maps, 

differi 

entire 

begini 

right 

raquir 

methf 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partlellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  pelure. 
etc.,  ont  6ti  fiimies  A  nouveau  de  fa9on  h 
obtenir  la  meilieure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 


10X 


14X 


18X 


22X 


26X 


30X 


7 


12X 


16X 


aox 


24X 


28X 


32X 


lire 

details 
ues  du 
;  modifier 
ger  una 

fiimage 


The  copy  filmed  here  hM  been  reproduced  thenkt 
to  the  generosity  of: 

IMetropolitan  Toronto  Library 
Literature  Department 

The  images  appeering  here  are  the  best  q  jality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specificatione. 


Original  copies  in  pi!nted  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impree- 
sion.  or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copiee  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impree- 
sion,  and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


lies 


L'exemplaire  filmA  fut  reproduit  grAce  A  la 
gin4rosit6  de: 

IMetropolitan  Toronto  Library 
Literature  Department 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  4t*  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin.  compto  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
de  la  nettet*  de  l'exemplaire  film6.  at  en 
conformiti  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fiimage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sent  filmte  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sent  filmte  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinta. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  --»•  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  dee  symboSes  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »>  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


re 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  et 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  pisnches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  Atre 
filmAs  A  des  taux  de  rMuction  diff6rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film*  A  partir 
de  I'engie  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  h  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenent  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


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ipon  A 


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2 

3 

32X 


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POEMS 


BY 


^    '      7 


.  -i 


BLflNGME  ELM9RE 


•     ♦ 


BORN    BLIND. 


Wilton-Smith  Co.  Phint^  dbtroit. 


t^zV^^:^- 


THE  SLTTMBER  SONG. 


Tis  eventide;  the  dewy  mists 

Hang  o'er  the  distant  hill, 
The  tiny  stars  come  out  to  keep 
Watch  o'er  you,  darling,  while  you  sleep, 

And  all  around  is  still. 

The  golden  grain  waves  to  and  fro. 
Fanned  by  the  gentle  breeze. 

While  overhead  the  nightingale 

Pours  forth  its  sweet  though  mournful  wail 
Among  the  forest  trees. 

The  jasmine  taps  against  the  pane, 
The  dewdrops  glisten  bright 

Within  the  heart  of  every  flower, 

In  this  serene  and  quiet  hour 
That  heralds  in  the  night. 


Then  sleep,  my  child,  and  have  no  fear, 

Sleep  till  the  dawn  of  day, 
For  holy  angels  guard  thy  head. 
Their  wings  of  light  are  o'er  thee  spread 
To  keep  all  harm  away. 


' 


Dream  of  the  land  of  peace  and  hope, 

Above  the  bright  blue  skies. 
Where  dwells  the  God  of  light  and  love 
Who  sent  thee  from  the  heaven  above 
To  glad  thy  mother's  eyes. 


DREAMINGS. 


Life  is  worth  living,  if  only  to  find 

The  wondrous  workings  of  the  human  mind, 
How  each  year  adds  more  knowledge  to  our  store, 
E'en  from  our  birth,  till  memory  is  no  more. 

•  .  • 

Yet,  toil  and  strive  and  struggle  as  we  may. 
Till  eyes  are  dim,  and  tresses  growing  grey. 
We  still  may  learn  new  lessons  as  we  go. 
The  more  we  seek,  the  less  we  seem  to  know. 

The  child  who  brings,  with  triumph  in  his  eyes, 
From  school  his  first  ai\d  v/ell  deserved  prize; 

To  youth  who  studies  through  the  long  drear  night, 
Till  the  bright  dawn  makes  dim  his  feeble  light. 

The  scholar  who  may  proudly  take  his  stand 

Among  the  great  and  learned  of  the  land; 

All  these  will  find,  as  on  their  way  they  go, 
How  much  there  is  that  man  may  never  know. 

If  man  could  will  to  live  from  age  to  age. 
And  each  year  saw  him  grow  more  good  and  sage. 
Dissatisfied  with  all  he  still  would  be. 
And  seek  to  solve  some  deeper  mystery. 


Be  happy,  then,  and  seek  not  learned  lore, 

A  lesson  take  from  those  who  have  gone  before. 

Wear  not  your  life  in  useless  toil  away, 

For  life  at  best  is  but  a  day. 


REFLECTIONS. 


On  the  blue  Canadian  waters, 

'Neath  the  blue  Canadian  sky, 
When  the  silent  moon  is  shedding 

Silvery  radiance  from  on  high; 
Where  my  fancy  loves  to  linger, 

While  I  let  my  barklet  glide 
Down  the  swiftly  flowing  river, 

On  the  bosom  of  the  tide. 

And  the  scene  spread  out  before  me 

In  its  desolation  grand. 
Rocks,  whose  crests  the  clouds  have  hidden, 

Native  giants  of  the  land; 
Trees,  whose  branches  kiss  the  waters. 

Islands  dotted  here  and  there; 
As  I  thread  the  winding  river 

Beauties  new  are  everywhere.  > 

And  as  if  to  lend  completeness 
To  the  moonlit  picture  bright, 

Here  a  tiny  house  and  clearing 
Unexpected  comes  in  sight. 

And  I  catch  the  cheery  glimmer 

Of  the  firelight,  through  the  door. 
But  my  bark  goes  gliding  onward. 
Some  new  beauty  to  explore. 

But  it  needs  a  perfect  poet. 

One  whom  beauty  can  inspire 
With  that  kind  of  holy  rapture 

Mortals  seldom  can  acquire. 
To  portray  in  glowing  colors 

Half  the  beauties  of  the  night; 
C„!  that  sweet  Canadian  river, 

When  the  moon  is  shining  bright. 


MORN. 


I 


I  love  to  stand  on  a  grass  clad  hill, 
And  watch  for  the  break  of  day, 

To  see  the  mists  as  they  I'se  and  fall. 
And  gradually  fade  away. 

I  love  to  see  the  rosy  light 

That  heralds  the  rising  sun, 

And  to  hear  the  skylark's  morning  hy    . 
As  he  sing  of  a  day  begun. 


I  love  to  see  the  gentle  sheep. 
To  hear  their  plaintive  bleat. 

To  smell  the  scent  of  the  new  mown  hay. 
And  the  honeysuckle  sweet. 


i  I 


The  morning  dew  hath  a  charm  for  me 
As  it  sparkles  on  every  flower. 

Like  countless  gleaming  diamonds. 
Just  fresh  from  a  fairy  bower. 


And  I  love  all  things  in  nature, 
With  a  wild  and  fervent  love. 

For  I  know  the  Hand  that  made  them 
Was  the  Father's  from  above. 


AN  HEROIC  DEED. 


O'er  the  hushed  and  sleeping  city, 

In  the  silence  of  the  night, 
Comes  a  cry  of  deepest  anguish. 

Full  of  terror  and  affright. 

By  a  thousand  distant  echoes, 

Caught  and  carried  far  and  wide. 

Till  as  many  eager  voices 

Swell  the  cry  on  every  side. 

What  is  it — this  crj;  ascending, 

Ah!  'tis  needless  to  enquire 
For  the  Heaven  itself  seems  ringing 

With  one  dread  word,  Fire  !  Fire  ! 

E're  as  yet  the  words  are  spoken, 

Through  the  darkness  of  the  night, 

In  a  mighty  burst  of  triumph 

Flames  leap  forth,  in  mad  delight. 

Useless  are  the  mighty  engines. 

All  man's  great  inventions  vain. 

Naught  can  save  the  burning  building. 

Though  they  strive  with  might  and  main. 

But  again!  that  cry  of  terror. 

Louder,  deeper  than  before. 
Like  to  which  but  few  have  listened. 

Rises  on  the  air  once  more. 

For  amid  the  burning  building 

Stands  a  woman,  young  and  fair. 

Holding  in  her  arms  an  infant. 
Silent,  in  her  great  despair. 


AN  HEROIC  DEED— Continued. 

Fast  the  cruel  flames  leap  onward, 

Eager  to  embrace  their  prey, 
Strong  men  gaze  in  stony  horror. 

Women  wring  their  hands  and  pray. 

"Gracious  Father — help  and  save  them," 
Each  heart  prays  in  terror  wild. 

While  in  agony  the  mother 

Holds  aloft  the  little  child. 

Surely  God  has  heard  their  pleading 
And  will  help  them  in  their  need, 

One  is  found  whose  noble  spirit 

Shrinks  not  from  the  daring  deed. 

One  whose  courage  never  falters. 

Though  he  feels  the  the  fiery  breath. 

And  has  often  paused  exhausted 
In  the  noble  fight  gainst  death. 

Breathless  stand  the  mighty  army, 
While  the  mother's  tearless  eyes 

Full  of  agonized  entreaty 

Pray  for  pity  from  the  skies. 

Courage  !  Courage  !  help  has  reached  them. 
Gracious  Heaven,  the  fight  is  won. 

In  the  arms  held  to  receive  him. 
She  has  placed  her  little  son. 

See  the  fiery  tongues  advancing, 

Now  they  reach  her  form  so  slight, 

(jne  dread  moment — all  is  over, 

She  has  passed  beyond  our  sight. 

Even  as  the  flames  enfold  her, 

O'er  her  face  a  look  of  joy 
Steals,  for  He,  her  prayer  has  answered. 

And  has  saved  her  infant  boy. 


IN  MEMORIAM. 


tV* 


God  sent  me  a  tiny  treasure, 

A  beautiful  baby  boy. 
To  all  fill  my  life  with  p    .ijaxrt 

My  heart  with  a  »-   >  /  t    d  joy. 
For  awhile  I  held  m-        ling. 

And  gazed  on  the  iittle  face, 
Which  learned  to  smile  at  my  coming 

With  innocent  baby  grace. 

But  God  saw  how  sad  this  world  was, 

How  full  of  sorrow  and  pain, 
And  he  wished  to  shield  my  darling 

From  suffering,  sin  and  stain, 
So  he  called  the  little  spirit 

Back  to  the  realms  above 
To  find  in  his  arms  a  shelter. 

Safe  in  his  infinite  Love 

But  I  miss  the  clinging  presence 
Of  the  Babe  I  hushed  to  rest. 

And  'tis  sometimes  hard  to  whisper 
That  God  in  his  Love  knows  best. 

And  I  long  to  clasp  my  darling 

Close  to  my  desolate  heart, 

And  to  feel  he  knows,  and  loves  me, 
Though  our  spirits  be  apart. 

Somewhere,  in  the  Mystic  Future, 

In  the  brighter,  better  land, 
I  shall  see  again  my  darling 

Mid  the  Holy  Angel  band. 
And  shall  meet  the  look  of  greeting, 

And  affection  in  his  eyes. 
As  he  whispers,  < 'Welcome,  Mother!" 

In  tones  of  glad  surprise. 


i 


TO  MY  MOTHER. 


To  thou,  who  from  my  early  infancy 
With  fondest  love  hath  ever  gu3'"ded  me, 
Who  taught  me  first  to  lisp  my  evening  prayer, 
And  soothed  my  every  childish  grief  and  care. 
My  Mother  dear,  these  line  I  dedicate, 
When  far  away  your  eyes  do  contemplate 
Through  loving  tears  these  words  which  do  but  say 
One  half  the  things,  my  spirit  would  convey. 

May  the  dim  Future  to  thy  heart  unfold, 
Blessings  as  deep  and  wide  as  Ocean  old, 
Each  tender  hope,  half  formed  within  my  breast 
Be  gratified,  ere  yet  it  be  expressed. 
And  may  the  birth  of  every  dawning  year. 
Enrich  thy  full  content,  my  Mother  dear. 
And  Time,  neath  whose  decree  we  all  must  bow, 
Leave  no  deep  furrows  on  thy  placid  brow. 


May  thy  declining  years  in  peace  abound 
And  deeds  of  kindliness  thy  life  surround, 
May  we,  who  know  our  mother's  fond  caress, 
Repay  tenfold  that  love  and  tenderness. 
If  wishes  could  bring  happiness.  Ah  !  then 
Thy  life  should  never  know  a  care  again. 
For  I  would  place  an  Angel  ever  near. 
To  wipe  away  each  sad  regretful  tear. 


PALACE  OF  CLOUDS. 


In  a  mystical  land,  gay  with  many  bright  flowers, 
Where  birds  ever  sang  in  the  tall  shady  trees, 
Where  the  sorrows  of  Earth  never  dimmed  the  glad  hours, 
And  Love  seemed  to  laugh  on  the  sweet  zephyr  breeze. 

I,  in  fancy,  erected  a  Palace,  which  ever 
Arrayed  in  the  strength  of  its  beauty  should  stand; 
But  alas  for  my  hopes!  with  the  first  stress  of  weather 
I  knew  its  foundation  was  built  on  the  sand. 

-'■''>  "  .  -  -■"■■■"  " ''       "■■'.■  ■   ■■-  -. '  ■■ 

All  the  beautiful  dreams  which  had  filled  me  with  pleasure. 
Had  passed,  with  my  aerial  castle,  away. 
And  the  land  gay  with  sunshine  and  every  fair  treasure 
Now  slumbered  neath  skies  which  were  threat'aing  and  grey. 

As  I  stood  mid  the  ruins  of  Fancy's  creation, 
A  desolate  feeling  awoke  in  my  breast, 
For  the  castle  I  built  with  such  pride  and  elation 
Was  only  a  Palace  of  clouds  at  the  best. 

Why  should  all  of  our  brightest  illusions  thus  vanish? 
And  dreams  that  are  fairest  so  swiftly  forsake. 
While  the  pain  and  regret  we  can  never  quite  banish 
Forever  in  silence  the  lone  heart  will  ache. 


Pve  seen  all  the  flowers  in  m  -  Fairyland  perish. 
Beneath  the  cold  blast  of  a  chill  winter  day, 
I  have  watched  every  tender  hope  wither  and  perish, 
My  beautiful  Palace  in  mist  pass  away. 


II 


AUTUMN   LEAVES. 


hours, 
ize. 


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sasure, 

lire 

and  grey. 


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i 


Autumn  leaves  bestrew  the  pathway, 

Overhead  the  breezes  sigh, 
And  the  swallows  come  together  for  their  flight; 

Winter's  stern  relentless  hand, 

Soon  will  rule  o'er  all  the  land. 
Decking  hill  and  vale  in  robes  of  glistening  white. 

But,  as  yet.  Dame  Nature  bravely 

Holds  her  own  in  woodlands  wild, 
Scattering  rich  and  varied  colors  everywhere, 

T'is,  as  though  in  her  decay. 

Knowing  all  must  pass  away, 
She,  would  leave  with  us  a  dream  of  Beauty  rare. 

For  the  Golden  Rod  is  blooming 

And  the  Heather  crowns  the  hill, 
While  the  Red  Rowan  berries  bend  the  branches  low, 

Though  the  Rose  no  longer  twines, 

Purple  Grapes  hang  from  the  vines. 
And  the  bright  eyed  squirrel  scampers  to  and  fro. 

Still  I  think  the  year's  declining 

Has  a  pathos  all  its  own. 
Which  will  speak  to  those  who  love  this  dear  old  earth; 

Even  as  the  life  of  man. 

Plants  and  trees  bloom  but  a  span, 
Then  must  perish  on  the  soil  which  gave  them  birth. 

As  the  Seasons  chase  each  other. 

Each  new  beauties  will  reveal, 
But  to  my  heart  none  of  them  are  half  so  dear. 

As  the  time,  when  overhead, 

Maple  leaves  are  turning  red. 
And  the  Autumn  sun  is  shining  bright  and  clear. 


MABEL'S  VISION. 


I  dreamed  we  stood  together  'lone, 
Upon  a  drear  and  lonely  shore, 

And  gazed  upon  the  ocean  wide 

Far  o'er  the  restless  flowing  tide. 

And  listened  to  the  breakers  roar. 

A  heaviness  was  in  the  air, 

I  shuddered,  though  I  kne  v  not  why. 
When  of  a  sudden  overhead 
An  awful  darkness  seemed  to  spread 

And  hide  from  me  the  bright,  blue  sky. 

I  reached  my  hand  forth  in  the  gloom, 

But  all  around  was  empty  space; 
I  called  upon  thy  name  in  vain. 
No  answering  voice  replied  again. 

And  swift  the  darkness  grew  apace.         ^ 

My  limbs  seemed  rooted  to  the  spot, 
I  tried  to  move  but  could  not  stir. 

Some  unseen  power  seemed  forcing  me 

To  gaze  upon  the  troubled  sea, 

'Till  all  my  sight  became  a  blur. 

Then  from  amid  the  watery  waste. 

Full  suddenly  I  saw  appear 
A  face  so  full  of  calm  and  rest. 
That  as  it  came,  borne  on  the  crest. 

My  heart  grew  cold  with  nameless  fear. 

Ah  !  then  I  knew  the  face  was  thine. 

And  strove  to  stretch  a  hand  to  save; 
Though  almost  at  my  feet  you  laid, 
You  would  not  see  my  proffered  aid. 

And  you  were  washed  back  by  the  wave. 

I  woke  to  find  it  but  a  dream, 

Yet,  still,  there  flits  before  my  sight, 
When'ere  I  close  my  wearied  eyes, 
That  face,  those  dark  and  dreary  skies, 

Distinct  as  on  that  fearful  night. 


i. 


I 


THE    LOVERS. 


They  were  lovers,  one  could  read  it 

By  their  low  and  earnest  talk, 
As  they  loitered  on  together, 

Down  the  cool  and  shady  walk; 
And  her  gentle  face  was  smiling, 

As  she  listened  with  delight. 
To  the  words  so  softly  jpoken. 

On  that  pleasant  summer's  night. 

For  they  both  were  young  and  happy, 

And  had  never  known  dull  care, 
And  the  clouds  on  their  horizon 

Promised  ever  to  be  fair. 
And  he  talked  about  the  future. 

When  she  should  be  his  bride. 
And  they'd  pass  through  life  together. 

Hand  in  hand  and  side  by  side. 

There's  a  maiden  who  sits  weeping, 
Weeping  by  her  cottage  door. 

For  her  lover  who  was  faithless. 

And  will  come  to  see  her  no  more; 

For  another  face  seemed  fairer. 

And  has  charmed  his  heart  for  aye. 

And  his  first  love  sits  lamenting, 
Left  to  pine  and  fade  away. 

Thus  a  dream  was  rudely  broken, 

Which  had  seemed  so  wondrous  bright 
And  the  darkness  left  behind  it 

Was  far  blacker  than  the  night; 
Yet  she  still  will  have  its  memory. 

To  cheer  her  lonely  lot. 
When  the  first  sting  has  abated, 

The  first  sorrow  is  forgot. 


THE  SOUL'S  VICTORY. 


Why  should  my  weary  soul  to-day 
/  Not  float  upon  thy  tide  away  ? 
/    And  by  the  world  forgot,  alone, 

Enter  through  Death  the  Land  Unknown 
Where  toil  and  trouble  is  no  more. 


Or,  I  should  sink  to  dreamless  sleep, 
Borne  on  thy  current  swift  and  deep. 
Lulled  by  thy  Music,  mild  and  free. 
Whose  sweet  though  mournful  melody 
Filled  me  with  joy  in  days  of  yore. 


In  thy  dark  waters  would  I  find 
Rest  for  my  tired  heart  and  mind, 
None  there  would  be  to  mourn  my  place, 
If  I  should  yield  to  thy  embrace, 
Whose  waves  seem  ever  beckoning  me. 


•fi 


Then  wherefore  should  I  hesitate 
To  clasp  in  mine  the  hand  of  Fate, 
Whose  fing(     points  me  to  the  wayi* 
Shall  I  draw  back,  and  answer— Nay! 
I  fear  to  dare  Death's  mystery. 

What  is  that  voice  ^rithin  my  breast  ? 
A  voice  I  dare  not  hush  to  rest  — 
Conscience,  which  at  this  awful  sin 
I  contemplate,  awakes  within 
To  fight  against  the  Tempter's  power. 


THE  SOUL'S  VICTORY— Continued. 


Pause  and  reflect,  while  yet  you  may, 
When  on  that  mighty  judgment  day,    i 
You  stand  before  the  justice  throne 
And  One  to  whom  all  sins  are  known 
Shall  claim  a  reckoning  for  this  hour. 

What  are  a  few  more  griefs  and  tears? 
Life  is  made  up  of  doubts  and  fears. 
But  that  the  soul  may  fitter  be. 
When  Death's  bright  angel  sets  it  free 
To  enter  the  realms  of  Light. 


Then  shall  thy  soul  by  crime  be  stained  ? 
Or  has  the  right  a  victory  gained  ? 
Trample  the  tempter's  promptings  down 
Win  for  thyself  in  Heaven  a  crown, 
Which  shall  for  earthly  griefs  requite. 

I  turned  away  with  head  bent  low, 
To  bear  the  grief  my  heart  must  know, 
And  though  my  spirit  should  grow  faint, 
To  lift  my  Cross  without  complaint. 
Whatever  the  burden  should  be. 


And  oft  since  then  I've  blessed  the  Power 

Which  gave  me  strength  in  that  dark  hour. 

And  helping  me  to  win  the  fight 

Rescued  my  soul  from  blackest  night. 

And  endless  >ears  of  misery. 


A  BROKEN  LIFE. 


An  aged  peasant,  bent  and  gray, 

With  many  a  wrinkle  on  his  brow 
Bearing  the  mark  of  time's  decay, 

Deep  furrows  which  his  footsteps  plough, 
Stood  leaning  on  his  time  worn  spade, 

Gazing  w'th  eyes  which  saw  afar 
High  o'er  the  stilly  silent  glade. 

Where  rose  in  splendor  the  evening  star. 

And  thus  he  mused — while  none  were  near 

But  I,  who  rtvad  his  inmost  heart, 
And  lend  a  sympathetic  ear 

To  hear  the  tale  he  should  impart: 
**  *Tis  nigh  on  forty  year  ago," 

He  spake,  but  in  a  trembling  tone, 
"  The  land  with  summer  was  aglow. 
Arrayed  in  beauty  all  her  own. 

That,  to  the  little  cottage,  yon. 

There  came  a  sweet  ar.d  holy  bride. 
Goodly  and  fair  to  look  upon. 

While  he,  the  lover  at  her  side 
Then  full  of  hope  and  strength  and  youth. 

Glad  with  a  great  and  new  found  joy. 
To  whom  life  seemed  one  long  bright  jruth, 

A  fairy  dream  without  alloy. 


A  BROKEN  LIFIL—Coniinufd. 

Though  two  score  years  have  passed  away, 

And  Age  has  bowed  the  form  you  see, 
Though  every  hope  has  passed  away, 

That  Earth  can  ever  hold  for  me. 
Still,  is  my  memory  ever  green. 

And  often  do  I  live  again 
In  picturing  many  a  happy  scene, 

E're  grief  upon  my  heart  had  lain. 

I  conjure  from  the  realms  above. 

That  gentle  spirit,  at  my  will. 
And  see  again  the  smile  of  love 

That  lingers  on  that  sweet  face  still. 
The  climbing  rose,  that  bloomed  of  yore. 

Bends  to  caress  the  upturned  face, 
Which  gazes  from  the  open  door. 

With  eyes  of  purity  and  grace. 


She  used  to  love  the  eventide, 

And  watch  the  first  faint  star  of  night 
Which  God  has  placed  in  Heaven  to  guide 

The  wanderer  to  the  throne  of  light. 
All  things  that  live  in  woodland  fair, 

The  flowers,  the  trees,  the  singing  birds. 
Each  found  a  sympathy  in  her, 

In  all  their  Life  and  World  she  shared. 


A  BROKEN  LIFE— ConiinufJ. 

And  all  the  gladsome  summer  long 

Our  bark  sailed  on  a  placid  stream, 
Life,  was  one  sweet,  unbroken  song. 

An  all  absorbing  halcyon  dream. 
But  wjien  the  early  Autumn  breeze 

Sighed  through  the  woods  with  mournful  wail, 
And  leaves  fell  thick  from  forest  trees 

I  saw  my  cherished  blossom  fail. 


So  gradually  she  changed,  that  I 

Who  lived  but  in  my  darling's  smile, 
Would  not  believe  my  flower  could  die. 

So  lulled  my  fears  to  rest  awhile. 
He, — the  AU-Powerful  ne'er  would  take. 

She,  who  was  all  my  life  to  me. 
Causing  my  wear}'  heart  to  break. 

Or  beat  through  years  of  misery. 


E'en  as  the  lily  droops  and  dies. 

The  breath  of  wintry  snows  before, 
I  could  the  truth  no  more  disguise. 

And  knew  that  spirit  nevermore. 
Could  be  content  where  mortals  dwell 

For  angel  voices,  pure  and  free. 
Sang  to  her  heart  and  she  could  tell, 

All  the  sweet  music  meant  to  me. 


A  BROKEN  1,IFE— Continued. 


wail. 


And,  with  the  early  breath  of  Spring 

Whtn  nature  wakes  from  sleep  again, 
Her  spirit  heavenward  took  its  wing 

And  I  was  left  to  bear  the  pain 
Of  knowing,  that  for  evermore, 

Life  held  no  hope,  no  joy  for  me 
Only  to  picture  days  of  yore 

And  live  in  past  felicity. 


When  summer  laughed  upon  the  land, 

I  stood  beneath  the  porch  alone. 
And  fancied  that  the  little  hand. 

Was  fondly  clasped  within  my  own, 
Then,  I  would  waken  with  a  sigh 

Remembrance  bringing  deepest  woe, 
She  whom  I  loved,  no  more  was  nigh. 

My  heart  alone,  it's  grief  must  know. 


I  missed  her  in  the  twilight  hour. 

For  with  the  set'^ing  of  the  sun 
She  came  to  me,  like  some  sweet  flower, 

And  we  would  stray,  when  work  was  done, 
Back  through  the  woodlands  to  our  cot. 

Half  hid  by  staunch  old  ivy  green, 
To  me,  on  earth  the  fairest  spot. 

Though  many  a  stately  home  I've  seen. 


A  BROKEN  lAFR— Continued. 

It  gives  relief  to  thus  unfold, 

My  story  to  a  friendly  ear, 
You  see  me  withered,  bent,  and  old; 

Yet  shed  for  me  no  silent  tear. 
For  soon  the  Peace  which  earth  denied 

Shall  calm  the  beating  of  my  heart, 
And  she  will  linger  by  my  side 

In  realms  where  Death  can  never  part." 

And  so  I  left  him,  standing  there, 

The  tears  were  wet  upon  my  cheek. 
Before  this  tragic  grand  despair 

What  word  of  comfort  could  I  speak? 
Knowing  I  could  not  understand, 

T'would  seem  the  wildest  mockery 
To  take  the  Peasant  by  the  hand 

And  tell  him  of  my  sympathy. 


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